


Two Ties With All the Fixin’s

by bipedalpanda (jbird181), jbird181



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Elevators, Ezekiel is annoyed, Fluff, Flynn won't stop moving, Kissing, M/M, Ties, flyzekiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-14 23:30:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8033248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbird181/pseuds/bipedalpanda, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbird181/pseuds/jbird181
Summary: Ezekiel is fed up with Flynn trying to fix his tie.





	Two Ties With All the Fixin’s

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SnorkleShit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnorkleShit/gifts).



> Panda deserves a thank you for helping me fill in the dots! The weirdest thing about this was writing Ezekiel as more of the "straight" man and making Flynn the funny man in the comedy duo. Usually, I write Stone as the "straight" man that has to put up with Ezekiel's antics. This isn't the best thing I've ever written, but it was fun to get a feel for the pairing.

Flynn pressed the elevator button. Then he pressed it again. And again.

“You know that does absolutely nothing, right? Chill out, mate, the elevator’s coming,” I sighed.

“I know, I know, I’m just really excited,” Flynn almost _giggled_ , using his hands to make an even bigger mess of his hair. No amount of gel had managed to flatten it, despite Cassandra’s best efforts. “I mean, I've never seen mind control this sophisticated!”

“You do realize we’re here to stop them?”

“Yes, Mr. Jones, I do. I just happen to appreciate high-level magic.”

“Whatever,” I answered, stepping into the elevator and pushing the button for the eighteenth floor. I tapped my toe impatiently as we rose.

And I thought Flynn was insufferable on regular days.

The ride seemed to take _forever_ , and Flynn didn't help matters. He kept jabbering on and on in what I think was English (although let's be honest it was probably Latin or Ancient Egyptian) while gesturing wildly. I winced every time his hands found his hair again, twisting the strands into configurations I hadn't previously thought were possible.

Then, unfortunately, he turned his attention to our outfits. We were undercover as businessmen, and as a result, were dressed up in suits. Not the most comfortable clothes, but the inside pockets are pretty good for hiding stolen goods, which, at least for today, was essentially my job.

Flynn fiddled with his tie, attempting _not_ to choke himself with it. He smoothed his jacket and retied his left shoe. Then he looked at me.

I held up my hands in the universal gesture of "stop". “Oh no. You are not going to force your crazy fashion onto me.” I mean, he was wearing a yellow tie with a pastel purple shirt for goodness sakes--they may be complementary colors, but they clash big time.

“I won’t.” Flynn said unconvincingly, still staring me down. “Your tie is just crooked.” He reached out, and I slapped his hand away.

“No. It's not.”

“Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

“It’s fine, Flynn.”

Flynn, who listens about as well as a two-year-old, reached out again, and I stepped back to stop him. “If you try to 'fix' my tie one more time I’ll, I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” said Flynn with a smug grin. He closed the space between us and ever so slowly placed a finger on my neck, loosening the knot that had taken me twenty minutes to get right. The contact made me brave for a split-second and I grabbed his tie, pulled him closer, and kissed him, hard.

For once, he shut up.

Flynn’s face was flushed when he broke away from me. (I realized after the fact that I was still holding his tie.) I flashed him a cheeky grin, even though I felt like I was trying to cross that rickety wooden bridge that we found in the middle of the jungle looking for the golden lamb statue last June. Now that I think about it, why is so much magic stuff made of gold?

“Wow,” whispered Flynn.

“I’ll do that,” I concluded lamely. _Take that_. 

Flynn, on the other hand was all smiles, his hands fluttering around my face and shoulders like little moths. “I should fix your tie more often.”

I snorted. Finally, the elevator doors slid open with a loud ping. Startled, I let go of his tie. Time to take care of business, I suppose, although there's something I'd rather be doing.

“I hate to say this, but you're right,” I mustered, trying to express my feelings. “We should… talk,” I cringed at the word, but pressed on. “We should talk about… us. Later.”

“Yes,” Flynn agreed before kissing me again. “For luck,” he explained.

I couldn't stop smiling as I strode down the hall, looking ahead to hide my blazing cheeks. “Come on, we have work to do.”

“Magical mind control, here we come!” 


End file.
